


MARRY ME

by islandgirl_246



Series: Just You and Me [12]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Actor Stiles, Bodyguard Boyd, Heavy Angst, Lawyer Laura, Lawyer Peter Hale, M/M, injured derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 19:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11766885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandgirl_246/pseuds/islandgirl_246
Summary: Peter just sat and looked at his nephew, whom he felt like more of a father to than an uncle. Derek looked so pale, so lifeless, even as machines beeped to put lie to the image his mind tried to conjure up.Peter dropped his head onto the sheets, forehead resting against Derek’s hand as a sudden sob broke his throat. It was the first since he’d first received the news in his office.Without his permission the dams burst free and so did all the emotions he’d been holding in since afternoon when his phone had rung and changed all their lives again in that instant.





	MARRY ME

**Author's Note:**

> How about this – another update. 
> 
> The number of times I was called “evil” for the previous fic . . . sigh – lol. So I thought I had better update again soon to make up for my cliffy. The first 50 (90?) per cent of this is probably going to be angsty . . . (whom am I kidding? Not probably – just prepare yourselves.)
> 
> Thanks again for all the love and hope you enjoy.

Peter’s hands dropped to Stiles’ hips. He was just as stunned as the younger man apparently was – if Stiles’ gobsmacked look was anything to go by.

 ** _MARRY ME._** It was the last thing Peter had expected to fly out of his mouth, and least of all in the parking lot of a hospital while Derek was barely out of a very difficult surgery just moments before. But now that the words had been let loose, there was no calling them back. At least he did not want to. He hoped Stiles would not make him retract them.

Stiles’ hand against his chest shook and Peter covered it with one of his own.

“Say something,” he whispered, brows pulling into a frown.

Stiles’ lips fell open but still no sound came out. Peter watched as he swallowed and tried again.

++++++

**_MARRY ME._ **

He’d been expecting more news about Derek. Had thought for a brief moment that something else had gone wrong, especially after the surgeon told them how difficult it had been to stop the bleeding of the worst of his gun shot injuries.

When Stiles had turned around from talking to his manager to find Peter standing there looking spaced out and deep in his own head, Stiles had prepared himself for more bad news. Had prepared himself to hold his partner as he fell apart again over whatever new development had happened in the brief moments that Stiles had been on the phone to Erica, his dad and finally his management team – including Finstock and Allison.

But **_MARRY ME_**. He hadn’t been prepared for **_MARRY ME_**.

So his brain had gone on pause, then eased to a slow crawl before lunging forward with too many thoughts all at once. The first being, Peter did not mean it. He was overly emotional and still running on adrenaline and so many other fuels triggered by this near tragedy; so there was no way he was thinking straight enough to have considered the ramifications of **_MARRY ME_**.

The second was, Stiles wasn’t sure he was ready. They’d only just got over most of the feeding frenzy – both good and especially the bad that the reveal of their relationship had stormed. He was just settling down into this thing that was his first real, official, adult, loving relationship. He wasn’t ready.

_Was he?_

But **_MARRY ME_** . . . none of his thoughts had even entertained that _glorious_ idea yet.

And third. There was something very final about those two words. Sure what he had with Peter was serious. Yes, he could see them building a life together; already considered Peter, his niece and nephew as his, his family . . . But marriage? Damn! Marriage was soooo final!

“Stiles?” Peter voice was soft, almost scared in its cadence and the look in his eyes told Stiles Peter was expecting him to refuse.

++++++

A refusal would crush him.

He hadn’t been expecting to propose, but once the words were out, he knew he’d meant them; knew he wanted to hold onto this man for the rest of his life and would do almost anything to make that a reality. Anything except call those words back.

 _Please don’t make me take it back._ His heart thumped beneath their joined hands, still folded together over his chest.

Peter swallowed with difficulty and waited as Stiles’ whiskey gaze shifted away from his, landed briefly on their joined hands, bounced to the open-neck collar of Peter’s blue shirt – he’d long since shed the jacket – and then returned to his face before shifting beyond his shoulder.

Peter girded his loins for a refusal. A refusal that would surely change the future of their relationship, though he hoped not.

Had he misjudged where he thought they were heading? He’d told himself after their confessions that they were on the same page. Sure, they hadn’t talked about it in a lot of detail, in fact they hadn’t really discussed this, but everything about their relationship – the way they shared, communicated, loved – surely that was evidence enough.

_Wasn’t it?_

Stiles was going to say no. And it would break Peter’s heart.

++++++

What would it mean if he said no? What would “wait” in a context such as this mean? Did he want to say no . . . wait . . . maybe? No was such a final word.

 _Final? You mean like saying yes would be? Like marriage is? That kinda final?_ His mind supplied, most unhelpfully.

Damn. He was fucked.

++++++

“Peter! Stiles!” Jordan’s voice interrupted the two. “If you want to see him, you need to come now. Doc wants to close off access to him for the rest of the night so he can rest. So you guys need to come now.”

Stiles met Peter’s eyes one last time before he shifted away from his lover. Before he could pull completely away though, Peter reached out and brushed his cheek and then dropped a quick kiss on his lips.

“I love you.”

He fold his hand into Stiles’, almost like he was afraid to let go; both unwilling to comment on the fact that the question still lingered in the air; still held them both in its strangle hold, uncertain and conflicted, and would probably choke them the rest of the night.

Peter led them both back into the hospital and the smells he hated that only reminded him of death and loss of family.

When they walked into Derek’s private room, the two officers standing guard at the doors nodded sombrely to them, machines beyond beeping a steady but unnerving rhythm that reassured of life even as it settled heavily in their stomachs.

Stiles felt Peter clench his hand tighter and he squeezed reassurance into his partner. He forcefully pushed all uncertainty of their previous interaction aside. He could freak about their relationship, but later. Now he needed to make sure Peter was ok.

The man in question sunk slowly, as if it hurt to do so, into the chair at Derek’s bedside, yet to release Stiles’ hand as he grasped Derek’s in his other. Peter just sat and looked at his nephew, whom he felt like more of a father to than an uncle. Derek looked so pale, so lifeless, even as machines beeped to put lie to the image his mind tried to conjure up.

Peter dropped his head onto the sheets, forehead resting against Derek’s hand as a sudden sob broke his throat. It was the first since he’d first received the news in his office.

Without his permission the dams burst free and so did all the emotions he’d been holding in since afternoon when his phone had rung and changed all their lives again in that instant.

++++++

Stiles choked back his tears; held in the screams that wanted to bellow to the surface. He released Peter’s hand so he could circle his arms around the man from behind, holding him as he broke to pieces at Derek’s bedside.

Behind him Stiles heard the door knob turn and one of Derek’s doctors poked a head in, lab coat swaying as he came to an abrupt halt at the scene before him. Stiles shook his head quickly at the man’s wide-eyed stare and the doctor hurriedly retreated, giving the family a few more moments of much needed privacy.

Eventually Peter’s shoulder stopped shaking, rising and falling with deep breaths instead of gasps.

“It’s ok. I’ve got you. He’s ok, Peter. He’s strong. He’ll pull through this. You’ll see.” Stiles wasn’t sure how much of what he was saying in an attempt to reassure and calm Peter was common sense talking, or whether he could be forced to eat his words later if something went wrong. So he sent up quiet prayers for the Hales who’d already lost enough.

Peter slowly sat back in the chair, swinging his body so his arms circled Stiles’ waist, head resting against his abdomen as he just held on. He held on until he felt a little more stable; until his throat stopped aching and his knees stopped shaking.

He felt Stiles press a kiss into the crown of his head and looked up at his lover, who proceeded to drop another on his lips.

“Ok?” Stiles asked, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Peter nodded.

“I think the doc is waiting to check on him again. We can come back early in the morning, but you need to rest, as so does Laura and Kira. My apartment is closer and I have enough room. I don’t think any of you should be alone tonight,” he said to Peter.

His partner nodded agreement and he released Peter to go over to Derek’s beside. Reaching out he brushed the hair back from the officer’s forehead and pressed a kiss there.

“Get better, Derek. We all need you to,” he whispered into the quiet of the room.

Reaching out he took Peter’s hand and they left Derek’s room. The doctor looked up as they exited.

“How’s he really doing?” Peter asked. “All those tubes . . .” he broke off, hesitant to ask what he really wanted to know. Images of Talia hooked up to similar machines ran like a reel through his mind. He tried, with difficulty to focus, to separate the images.

“There’s been no change since he came out of surgery, but that’s not a bad thing. His body needs to recharge, heal. He should begin to come out of the anaesthesia some time tomorrow evening or the following day, given the severity of his injuries, but we’re hopeful. We have no reason to believe he won’t make a full recovery, Mr. Hale. He’ll need plenty of rest, which is why you should all go home and get some yourselves.

“The police have assured us that no one comes or goes without adequate checks and the surveillance and security in this area, you can rest assured he’s safe now.”

Peter nodded, squeezing Stiles’ hand tightly at the mention of the security considerations. That aspect he had also shoved to the back of his mind all evening.

“If there’s the slightest change, we’ll call,” the doctor reassured them. “We have your contact information.”

Peter shook the man’s hand and he and Stiles headed back to the private waiting room that had since emptied of police officers. Laura sat quietly chatting with Jordan. Kira was curled into herself on one of the sofas, eyes closed but restless. The wear of the day had definitely taken a toll.

Stiles went over to rouse her. They were all emotionally drained right now and needing a moment to recharge and refocus. Not to mention food. He sent a quick text to Allison to arrange some sustenance by the time they arrived at his penthouse.

“Let’s go,” Stiles said, pressing send, as Kira looked up at him. “You’re staying with me tonight.” Turning again, he looked to Jordan and Laura. “There’s room at my place if you guys want to crash as well.”

Jordan looked at Laura briefly before nodding. The crew rolled out – Jordan holding Laura’s hand; Stiles sandwiched between Peter and Kira.

“We’ll meet you there,” Jordan said, leading Laura toward the doors that led to the car park and his sedan.

Officers they had not seen lingering stepped forward.

“Mr. Hale, Mr. Stilinski, I’m Officer Chetwyz. This is Officer Lionel and Officer Clermont. We’ve been assigned to your detail.”

Peter frowned. “Assigned by whom?”

“Congressman Aimes, sir. Until investigations are concluded and all unsubs caught, the department is to ensure Detective Hale’s family is safe. There’s chatter, sir, but we’ve been instructed that you are not to worry, we’ll handle security and be escorting you to your homes where other surveillance is already being set up.”

Stiles nodded. “It’s just one residence tonight, mine. My attorney, Jordan Parrish will transport Laura, and Kira and Peter are travelling with me. My driver is also my bodyguard.”

“We know Detective . . . I mean Mr. Boyd, sir. He’s still considered one of us,” Officer Chetwyz smile ruefully. “That makes it all easier.”

The officer seemed to relax then. “We’re very sorry for all this. We will do whatever we can to minimise the inconvenience.”

It was perhaps the first time Peter considered all the ramifications of what had happened.

Derek and Isaac had been attacked because of a drug bust. A _drug_ bust. And all those involved had not yet been identified or caught, although one assailant had been killed in the process. His gaze darted back down the corridor and suddenly he was apprehensive to leave. Derek was especially vulnerable now. _Maybe they should stay._

“He’s in good hands now, Mr. Hale. We promise he’s safe,” the red-headed Officer Clermont said for the first time, accurately assessing the reason for Peter’s hesitation. “He’ll be guarded tighter than Fort Knox, trust me. The Mayor himself is going to wish he had this kind of protection. We’ll keep him safe.”

“He’s safe, Peter, and you need to rest,” Stiles urged, hoping it would get his partner moving. Not to mention the talk they needed to have.

Stiles exhaled as Peter finally gave in and allowed himself to be led to the car, Boyd at the wheel, eyes vigilant.

++++++

Peter stood in the shower and let the hot water beat on him.

His chin was near touching his chest with exhaustion and worry he could not shake. In the last hour he’d already checked in several times with the hospital. After the third call, Stiles had got up to have a quiet conversation with Boyd. The man had left shortly after and within 20 minutes, the bodyguard had alerted him that two security experts from Boyd’s own consultancy firm were added to Derek’s detail.

It wasn’t perfect, but he breathed a lot easier thereafter. The worry though, would not go away.

Hands circled his waist, startling him. When he’d shed his clothes and stepped into the shower, Stiles had been on yet another call. The phone had been ringing off the hook ever since they stepped in. Stiles had spent the time seemingly outing fires.

His own hands came down to rest on his lover’s. “All done?” he asked the actor.

“For now. Come here.” Stiles turned him so they were facing and they just quietly held each other.

Soon after, Stiles took the bath wash, the name for which Peter had still not figured out, and promptly soaped up his partner. In less than 10 minutes they were out and Stiles was patting him dry.

Peter moved to slip into his pyjama bottoms, but was halted by Stiles’ staying hand. The younger man stepped up, hands already roaming his body. Despite his fatigue, his body took notice, as it always did.

When Peter reached down to caress Stiles’ dick, his partner stopped him. “No, let me. Tonight, let me take care of you.”

It was on the tip of Peter’s tongue to remind him that he’d been doing just that all day, but he stopped himself. He need this. They both did.

He gave himself freely over to Stiles’ hands and mouth. When Stiles sunk down unto him, they both moaned in unison, breaths mingling; I love you’s uttered and answered in word and action.

They both fell asleep sated; worry pushed aside, at least for now.

++++++

_ There was blood. _

_ There was so much blood. _

_ He couldn’t stop the bleeding. Why couldn’t he stop the bleeding? _

_ Pained greenish eyes looked back into his. Then the eyes were brown, whiskey brown in a face cast in shadows, indecipherable, lips opened in a silent scream. Where was it coming from, all this blood? He began to panic.  _

_ Help, he needed help. Please, somebody help!  _

_ Please, I can’t lose her . . . lose him. Help me! _

Hands on his face. That’s the first thing that broke through. Then a voice urgently calling his name. Peter gasped and lurched up in bed; Stiles’ hands running all over his skin.

“You’re ok. He’s ok, Peter. It’s ok.”

His breathing was harsh, ragged, panicked in the quiet room as he tried to bring his heartrate back to normal.

“Stiles?”

“I’m here, and Derek’s ok.”

Peter gathered the younger man into him, folded him into his arms and just inhaled. Stiles’ arms came around him as a knock sounded on their door.

“Peter?” Laura’s voice called in distress.

“Let me talk to her, ok? Peter, you have to let me go. Let me get the door. I promise I’ll be right back.”

Peter’s arms finally eased. The actor quickly slipped into pants and hurried to the door. Laura stood there ringing her hands.

“Is he all right?”

“Just a dream. He’s going to be fine. You should go back to bed.”

“Stiles . . .” her voice shook.

He reached out, laid a steady hand on her shaking ones, recognising the look in her eyes. “I know. I’ve got him. I promise.”

She swallowed, nodded. Jordan’s hands rose to her shoulders, steering her away from the door. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

“Goodnight,” he responded closing the door.

++++++

Stiles went to the mini-fridge he kept near his bed and got a bottle of water, pouring it out into a glass he also kept there, chilled. He folded Peter’s hands around the glass and waited as the man gulped and then sipped the rest.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare everyone,” Peter apologised.

“Want to talk about it?”

Peter’s head hung down. “I can’t stop thinking about Talia. The last time I saw her she was hooked up to machines like that. Then the beeping just flat-lined and within minutes she was gone. I can’t lose him, Stiles.”

“And you won’t. You heard what the doctor said.”

“Doctors have been wrong before. Talia was supposed to wake up. They were fighting to save Cora, and they both died.”

“Derek is not going to die. I think you know this.”

Silence fell between them. Peter shuffled upright, back against the headboard, hands fiddling with Stiles’ in his lap.

“It was like one moment I was looking at Talia, then Derek . . . then you.”

Stiles held his tongue, waited.

“Am I going to lose you, Stiles?”

“Does it feel like you’re losing me? Or have lost me? Did any part of today, tonight say to you that you’d lost me? Look at me, Peter!”

When blue eyes raised to his, he continued. “What part of our lovemaking felt like goodbye to you?”

“But you’re going to refuse my proposal, aren’t you?”

Stiles exhaled. “Not for the reasons you think.” Stiles scooted around, feet folded meditation style as he edged as close as he could to Peter.

“I love you, Peter. At his point, I can’t even fathom loving anyone else. I think of you and everything in me exhales, settles. I’ve never felt that way in all my life. But I feel that way about you, about us.

“I’m not saying no to marrying you. I’m saying let’s talk about it later. Ask me when Derek is not hooked up to machines in a hospital bed; when Laura isn’t falling apart and when your emotions aren’t running on fear and adrenaline. Ask me then. But I won’t have you look back on this and think that we leapt too soon. I won’t have this be a mistake, because I only ever intend to do this once.”

“But it’s not a mistake. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you; the rest of our lives making you happy. How can that be a mistake?”

Stiles smiled sadly. He reached out and framed Peter’s face again. “I don’t doubt your love for me, Peter,” he paused to gather his thoughts. This had to be said right or it could end up as something he’d come to regret. Something harsh between them later.

“I want to be able to think of the day you proposed to me, the day I agreed to spend the rest of my life with you, without gloom and doom hanging over us. Can you understand that? I want your thoughts to be on me and us and only that. I don’t want fear for Derek to be the thing that drives this. I want our family to not be in turmoil when I recall the day we got engaged.”

Peter’s eyes fell from his again. He nodded, not sure what else to say and feeling like Stiles’ mind was already made up. It felt like something had leeched out of him in the process of Stiles’ refusal.

++++++

Stiles felt lost.

_This was the right decision. Wasn’t it?_

++++++

The morning began with calls. So many calls.

Stiles had finally retreated to his home office to deal with some of them – especially the rescheduling of some of the dates he’d agreed to and working out contract issues with Allison and Jordan pertaining to his cancellations. Jordan had left early in the morning to rush home for a change of clothes and then to the office.

Peter had handled a few himself from the office, taking over any issues that Laura should have been dealing with and ensuring the other senior partners and associates were briefed.

Kira had roused enough to grab a bowl of cereal and then closed herself back into the room, exhaustion still marking her face. They were headed to the hospital at 10, and she said she’d be ready by then.

“Something’s wrong,” Laura said, sipping her coffee.

Peter looked up at her and frowned. “What?”

“Did you and Stiles argue last night?”

Peter paused. “No, why do you ask.”

“Because something is different this morning. Is it the nightmares? They’re back aren’t they? I remember after mom . . .”

“It was one dream, Laura. One dream does not a series of nightmares make.”

“Then what? And don’t you dare tell me it’s nothing.”

Peter got up to refill his cup. “I asked him to marry me.”

Laura’s hands flew to her mouth. Water pooled in her eyes. “Oh my God, congratulations, Peter,” she grinned, then paused and frowned. “So why aren’t you happy?”

Peter lifted tormented blue eyes to her.

“Shit, he refused.” She swallowed.

“Not exactly. He wants to wait. It boils down to, he thinks I’m too emotional to know my own mind, what I want, now. That everything that happened yesterday led to a rash proposal on my part.”

Laura lifted dark brows. “Really? A rash proposal? You? Has he met you?”

Peter smirked, but his eyes remained sad. Laura sobered. “I’m sorry, Peter. You’re thinking he doesn’t want this.”

“I know he loves me, Laura, and I know he knows I love him, but we’ve never discussed where all of this was heading. I think it caught him by surprise – hell, it caught me by surprise – and then he caught cold feet, which I can’t blame him. I really can’t. It was kinda out of the blue and so damn sudden, and lacking romance and finesse and all the things that a traditional proposal should be. Maybe he really thinks it’s too soon. And maybe it is. I don’t know.”

Laura toyed with the cup handle. “Why did you propose?” she asked finally.

Peter didn’t even have to think about it.

“Because yesterday he held me up when I thought the weight of the world would crush me inside my own skin. Because I was scared to death that I was watching Talia and Cora all over again and he saw that and stood by me the entire time; reminded me that I was stronger than I thought. I watched him with you and Derek these past months and I couldn’t ask for a better partnership.

“Then I stood there listening to him postpone his life for us, despite all the plans he had for the next couple weeks, and I couldn’t think of anything else I wanted more than to spend my life with him. I’ve never loved anyone more and I won’t ever. I know that with certainty.” He breathed deeply. “I guess I just have to convince him this is how I feel. That this is not a momentary lapse of judgement.” He smirked mirthlessly down into his black coffee.

“Then ask me again.”

Peter swung in his seat to find Stiles standing there, hands splayed and tears running down his cheek. The lawyer got slowly to his feet as Laura’s eyes went wide and then brimmed with tears themselves.

“I’m ready,” Stiles gasped. “Ask me.”

Peter walked slowly to the love of his life, slipped one hand around his neck and brushed a trailing tear with his thumb.

“Miloslaw Stiles Stilinski. I love you more than I thought it possible to love a single person and I want to spend the rest of our lives proving that to you. Will you marry me?” he spoke softly, eyes holding his lover close.

“Yes, Peter. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Laura screeched as the two melted into a deep kiss and Kira came running.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually had no plans to end **You Can Lean On Me** where it ended with that proposal, but Peter got carried away. The name for this chapter had already been decided weeks ago and this was to be a grand proposal amid anniversary celebrations; and Stiles was supposed to be the one proposing. I had it all worked out in my head, but DAMN YOU PETER!


End file.
